Why I Prefer to be Thin

“Vanity,” is hardly the half of it.

Note: The following is my opinion and that’s all it is so please think before you snarl.

I recently read a story from a writer who I admire on this platform. In a nutshell, the topic was about body-positivity for women who aren’t replicants of what a woman should look like, according to Madison Avenue and the media. In other words, “young, beautiful…and thin.”

In turn, the writer was eviscerated with comments by women who gave her a heaping helping of shit for “shaming” thin women. Several of the comments were especially nasty. For myself, I thought the story was funny so I complimented it.

In retrospect, I don’t know. Maybe she could have taken a step back and chosen her words more carefully. I am hardly one to talk as when I have a bug up my butt, and something to say, I let it out. If you read me on a regular basis, you know what I’m talking about.

I’ve been heavy and I’ve been thin. I’ll take “thin” any day of the week and here’s why: At a certain point, fat is not healthy.

Let me repeat: At a certain point.

In my fifties, I packed on a lot of post-menopausal weight. Factor that with the reality that I was never very good at controlling my portion sizes and you have the perfect recipe for becoming really, really fat.

When I liked something…one serving wasn’t enough. I’d have another and then nosh on more food while cleaning up.

And then I’d feel like shit. On several occasions, I made myself “purge” the mountain of food I’d slowly, but methodically taken in.

I’ve always exercised, but at some point, I started phoning it in. My workouts were half-assed, frankly. And never enough of a calorie burn to offset my eating.

Although I was heavy, I carried it well. My height (5'6") compensated for the extra flab. And I always wore clothes that were too large for me. I guess I thought if I looked like I was swimming in them, I’d appear thinner.

Newsflash: That doesn’t work. In fact, it has the opposite effect. You just look like an overweight person in big, floppy clothes.

I avoided looking at myself naked. Aging and the extra weight contributed to the “bat wings” I was sprouting on my arms, as well as the dreaded “turkey wattle” underneath my chin. And, although I’d always been a confident individual, that confidence started to tank.

Photos were a non-starter. I hated having my picture taken. I just wasn’t happy in my skin and I think it showed.

Now, I don’t want to give the impression that I was “do a double-take” big, but I wasn’t at all jazzed with the way I looked or felt. I hated shopping for clothes and I avoided the scale at all costs. (“Scale?” What the hell was that?)

And there is the key to why I did an about-face and reversed all of the above: I wasn’t happy with myself. I didn’t feel like the Sherry I’d known for years.

I’ll pause here to point out that, the numbers on the scale are insignificant if you are confident and at ease in your own skin. And that’s a wonderful thing.

One day, something clicked in my brain and I determined then and there to change. What I had going in my favor is that when I make up my mind to do something, I do it. There’s no going back. That’s why I’m still on Medium, stats be damned!

I took a good, hard look at how I ate and what I ate. Being half-Italian, pasta is in my blood and I’d rather eat that than anything else. But, I can’t stick to the recommended portion size so I decided to dramatically cut carbs. Being an “all or nothing” person, that’s what worked for me. You might have a different approach.

Now I eat Shirataki noodles. Look them up. They take some getting used to but they're fantastic in any pasta or noodle dish.

I also upped my intake of vegetables and lean protein. I’d given up red meat so chicken and fish were staples. (Note here: I plan to switch to an eating plan that’s entirely plant-based, for ethical, as well as health reasons.)

Because veggies are filling and loaded with fiber, I didn’t have to worry about portion size. I ate, and do eat, a ton of them.

Exercise took on a whole new meaning for me. I started working out with intent. I’d never strength-trained in the past and once I bought a set of hand weights and several popular fitness DVDs, everything changed. And I mean, everything. (Jillian Michaels does kick ass, by the way.)

With an energetic mix of cardio and resistance training, my body changed. So much so that I lost the “bat wings,” as well as the turkey neck.

My arms and legs have definition; I have one chin and my neck and chest area are wrinkle-free. For a woman in her 60s, I’d say that’s a good thing. And I’m not ashamed for putting voice to that.

When I was employed, my lunch hours were spent at a nearby gym. After being laid-off, I worked out at home. I have a treadmill, stationary bike, hand weights, kettlebells and a ton of DVDs. Also, there is a wide range of fitness videos on streaming TV and YouTube.

Even though I’m still unemployed I recently joined an inexpensive gym near my home. It’s large, immaculate and no one gives a shit about anyone else.

As you might expect, like gyms all across the country, it closed because of COVID-19.

So I’m back to working out in my home, daily. It keeps me lean…and sane.

Why do I prefer being thin? Looks count, certainly. I’m as vain as the next person. Feeling sexy, is important to me, as well. But moreover, I have more energy than people half my age. I flit around this house like a hummingbird. And, I’m convinced that keeping my weight down is a far healthier option than being overweight.

You may disagree, and that’s your prerogative because really, your definition of “overweight” may not jibe with mine. So, please, don’t be offended and don’t accuse me of “shaming” fat people. I don’t and I wouldn’t.

To each his own.

Today, I’m a lean, mean, writing machine and proud of it. Soon, I will get off my ass and onto my bike where I’ll peddle in front of the TV and swear at the Orange Troll on CNN. Better yet, I’ll skip that and switch to Netflix.

Finally, I don’t need to look like the women in magazines or TV commercials, nor do I want to. That’s all air-brushed bullshit, anyway. “Healthy and strong” are my goals.

One more thing. Losing weight saved my life. I was undressing…in front of the mirror this time…and saw a lump over my right breast. Saw it. I had so little body fat that it was visible under my skin.

That lump turned out to be breast cancer. Five years down the road and I’m still here.

Thank you for reading.

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

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